


Reflections

by AudreyV



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, Bruises, F/F, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 16:36:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8924353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudreyV/pseuds/AudreyV
Summary: Bonnie has choices now, and she's chosen this. 
Pre-canon.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure this was my first try at what would become [Without Words](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5451875). I planned on it being part of something bigger but it never quite fit, so now it gets to stand alone rather than sit in my "wtf do I do with this?" folder. I hope you enjoy!

Bonnie inhaled sharply, her eyes drifting closed as teeth nipped at the flesh of her neck. The hand that had been toying with one of her rosy nipples drifted lower, skimming her stomach. She moaned as fingertips began to lightly stroke her, slipping easily between her folds. 

"So wet. Good girl." 

Bonnie swallowed a growl of protest when the hands moved away. Annalise stepped to the side, going to the mantle to pour herself a drink, giving Bonnie a clear view of her reflection in the large mirror in the corner of the room. 

She was flushed, blonde hair messy and falling into her eyes. There were three angry welts blooming on her skin, two on her neck and one near her left collarbone. Five splayed fingers had left their mark on her thigh, stark and red. She knew if she turned, she’d see an asteroid belt of bruises, purples and blue-greens and yellows spanning from shoulder to thigh in irregular clusters.

After spending her late twenties and early thirties being mistaken for a college student, Bonnie finally looked like she was old enough to be a lawyer. She liked the lines that appeared at the bridge of her nose, and the parts of her body that became softer and more flawed as the years passed. Bruises, wrinkles, welts, the dimple in her thigh, the impressions Annalise’s teeth left in her flesh— perfectionist Bonnie reveled in all these imperfections.

The wrecked person in the mirror was a grown woman, who was here doing this because she wanted to. Every moment she stood here quivering under the burn of Annalise’s gaze was something she chose.

"It's strange, isn't it?" Annalise’s throaty alto voice was soft around the edges. She glanced down into her glass, tilting it back and forth to clink the ice cubes together. 

"What?"

"The things that make sweet, gentle little girls grow up to like pain,” Annalise said, and it went just outside the lines. Bonnie felt the trespass hit one of the places she hadn’t quite shored up yet and she stiffened.

"They're the same things that make other little girls grow up to like hurting people." She caught Annalise’s gaze from across the room and held it as she continued. "If I wanted to be psychoanalyzed, I'd be fucking your husband."

A chuckle and an inclined head, but when she spoke, there was tension in Annalise’s voice that wasn’t there a moment ago. "I'm not entirely sure you haven't."

Bonnie kept her face neutral and her chin up. She stared as the other woman slowly moved to her, an inscrutable expression on her face.

“You look like you have something to say,” Annalise murmured. Her breath was hot on the side of Bonnie’s neck.

“You’re trying to push the thought away, but the instant I said it you could see it happening in your mind. Sam with his hands all over me. You’re wondering, did your husband fuck me in your bed, or was that blonde hair from the last time I was between those sheets with you? Or maybe you’re thinking you might not be the only one who makes me watch my own reflection as I come.” Bonnie felt a shiver go through her as Annalise’s eyes flicked toward the mirror.

It was so easy for Bonnie to steer them toward waters that would leave her bruised and sore. She provoked Annalise; it was a flaw in her character, or maybe a legacy of the way she grew up. Normal people would think it strange, and she didn't really understand it herself, but Bonnie found such pleasure— and such power— in choosing to kneel. She gave Annalise an expanse of pale skin and went home with all their secrets written in a code of marks.

Doing this with Annalise made a place inside her that had always been empty overflow.

She saw Annalise tugging at the idea in her mind, deconstructing it into parts. Blonde hair and a bruised hip and Sam’s strong hands. Bonnie watched her running the tally in her head and wondering if it added up to betrayal.

“You have no idea if this is part of the game or if it’s a real confession, do you?” Bonnie asked.

“Doesn’t matter.” Annalise’s voice was low, quiet, but Bonnie could hear the desire in it. “Either way, you’re in for a world of hurt.”

Bonnie smiled, pleased that Annalise understood.

“Good. Then get over here and hurt me.”


End file.
